What's Up With This Work Thing? (Plus: Stiletto's: Part III)

I started work at 8:30 this morning and here it is 8:49 at night and I'm just now closing down all systems.  What's up with that?  I entered this freelance gig to avoid that whole "working" thing.  No one ever mentioned 12 hour days were part of the plan.  (Although--tee hee--I never thought to ask.)

All in all, a good day.  I hit the road for my auto dealer interviews for our local paper.  They'll feature one employee from a different auto dealership each week in a sort of "behind the scenes" profile look.  I mentioned over the phone to every dealer I spoke with that it really would serve them best to not just go with their salespeople for the profile (the most obvious choice), but instead, mix it up a bit.  Have me interview someone from the finance department or a stellar mechanic from service. 

I still spent  most of the day interviewing salesmen.  This assignment is going to tax my ability to find new and creative ways of writing, "He took the job because he really enjoys working with people."

Still, I had fun.  The people were nice and I spent the day surrounded by new car smell. 

The one downside is my horrible ineptitude with the camera.  I seem to have a block in this area.  I met with the newspaper's photographer on one of my assignments today and she was wonderful with the tips she supplied.  Still, even I was aghast at the horrendous photos I took after she left.  I don't know when, but I have GOT to find the time to practice some photo taking.  Not at all what I feel like doing but they're only going to allow me to turn in the lowest of mediocre shots for so long. 

STILETTO UPDATE: Wore a new suit today, very professional looking.  The stilettos finish it off and add a great kick to it.  However, I didn't want a repeat of the teeter-tottering incident so instead of wearing the shoes, I carefully packed the box in the backseat, thinking I'd slide them on as need be.  Well, there never was a good time so the shoes spent a lovely day roaming the fair city of Greensboro in my car and taking in the sights.  Maybe next time I'll go so far as to drag the box around with me and open it to show people.  "These are my shoes," I'll say.  "Can't you just imagine how stunning they look with this outfit?"

This woman thing is way too hard.  We need a revolution.